


step forward for synchronization

by inquisitor_tohru



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Geonosis (Star Wars), Hopeful Ending, Loss of Limbs, Major Character Injury, Second Battle of Geonosis, Turing Fest 2020, working together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:28:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24544630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitor_tohru/pseuds/inquisitor_tohru
Summary: The droid - B1-299, according to the auberesch on its comlink booster pack - craned its neck as it turned to reveal its insectoid Geonosian profile and stare him down with its sinister photoreceptors.Thiswas his only chance."Help."
Relationships: Original Clone Trooper Character/Original B1 Battle Droid Character
Comments: 10
Kudos: 19
Collections: Turing Fest 2020





	step forward for synchronization

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bright_Elen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bright_Elen/gifts).



Fluke had really been living up to his name this last week. He wasn't even supposed to _be_ on Geonosis, but things like this happened to him all the time, and he'd paid it no mind. _A fluke of fate,_ he'd joked with his squadmates. Well, now the joke was on him and it was hard to see the funny side when you were bleeding out in an arid desert, surrounded by carcasses of clones and clankers alike. Fire and smoke flickered on a horizon streaked with red while Fluke took a deep breath, remembered his training, and assessed the situation.

His ears were still ringing from the factory explosion but his standard issue helmet and old, ill-fitting body armor had done a decent job protecting him from blasterfire and bursts of shrapnel. Unfortunately, twenty shining white plates had been no match for several tonnes of falling debris - he'd been lucky not to have been buried beneath the rubble. It took him a few moments to register that he was missing half of his right arm, and he was still processing that when he sensed metallic movement on his right side. With great effort, he rolled over into sand soaked with his own blood, and shakily reached for his blaster with his good arm.

The B1 battle droid beside him unfolded its limbs, stretching out from the compact stowed configuration that bore a passing resemblance to a human curled into the fetal position. The clankers were flimsy things, cheaply mass produced and not built to withstand this kind of assault. They were not good soldiers. Their strength lay solely in their swarm tactics, not their individual talents - they were renowned for being dim-witted. Yet this one had possessed the intelligence to have taken protective measures against the blast, with only its comlink booster pack taking major damage. That made it dangerous. But it was also his only chance of survival.

Still shivering in spite of the heat, Fluke aimed his blaster as the droid's elongated neck unfolded, taking out the comlink tucked beneath the head. His eyes searched for the small cylindrical restraining bolt that ensured the droid's loyalty to its masters, desperately trying to recall the specific points to which they could be secured on a B-series battle droid before he ran out of time. After seconds that felt like minutes, Fluke found it nestled between the comlink booster pack and the base of its neck, immensely grateful that the Jedi general he'd served under had taken the time to teach him a few basics about droid maintenance. He tried not to think about what might have happened to her. To his brothers.

The droid - B1-299, according to the auberesch on its comlink booster pack - craned its neck as it turned to reveal its insectoid Geonosian profile and stare him down with its sinister photoreceptors. _This_ was his only chance.

"Help." His voice felt like the sands of Geonosis, red and raw and like it might be carried away by the barest of breezes. A long pause lingered between them and Fluke wasn't sure that B1-299 had heard his plea.

"ROGER ROGER." The droid rose to its full, impressive height, extending an arm downwards.

When Fluke came to, he was underground, and the pain where the lower half of his right arm should have been had become more of a dull itch. He'd take it. Hell, he'd take pretty much anything right now.

"YOU-"

 _"Woah_ , buddy, could you turn down the volume a little?"

"Affirmative," the droid said, its voice now barely above a whisper. Well, Fluke supposed it was better than the screech still echoing through the caverns. "You have sustained several injuries that I am not properly equipped to treat."

"No shit," he murmured under his breath. He racked his brains, trying to remember where the Republic soldiers had set up camp. But even if he could remember, the catacombs beneath the surface of Geonosis were notoriously difficult to navigate. He was going to starve down there, buried beneath the desert, apart from his brothers. _No._ He wouldn't give up just yet.

"I am sorry," the droid said, a hint of emotion slipping into its voice. "I appreciate you removing my restraining bolt."

"I appreciate you not leaving me. Since you helped me out back there, what should I call you?" Fluke wasn't sure what he expected to hear - its serial number, B1-299, or perhaps just B1, or some kind of designation code.

"Glitch."

"Glitch, huh. I'm Fluke. Don't suppose you have a map of this place?"

"Negative. I am equipped with a homing device that ordinarily, when activated, would guide me back to the factory." Fluke sighed.

"Right." If he'd had his chronometer he might have had a chance at determining distances between junctions, but unfortunately that was missing along with his right arm. So was his comlink, though even if it had somehow survived he doubted they'd have been within range, and Glitch's comlink booster pack was too damaged to be of any use. "Do you have a chronometer? Anything you can use to scan the area?" The droid tilted its head, as if deep in thought, then raised an arm, revealing a shiny, new chronometer on its wrist. Not a single scratch. For the first time, Fluke wondered if maybe Glitch was like him - caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Also, I can scan our more immediate surroundings for survivors."

"People, or droids?"

"Affirmative."

Without Glitch's assistance, it would have been all too easy for Fluke to have become disorientated. He normally prided himself on his ability to recognise patterns, but the sprawling labyrinth made no sense to him. Even if he'd had his own chronometer, memorising pathways that forked not only right and left but _up and down_ would have given him a headache - not to mention the fact that he needed help to climb. B1 droids were not especially strong, but Glitch had ditched the booster pack to better support Fluke's weight.

They passed hundreds, perhaps thousands, of Geonisians cramped together within the recesses of the caves' walls. Most Geonosian odours were unpleasant to human nostrils, so Fluke couldn't tell whether they were dead or sleeping, and he didn't care to ask. This place was already creepy enough, with the oppressive atmosphere and bones scattered across the floor, picked clean. Glitch caught him when his knees threatened to buckle, and Fluke clung to the droid's shoulder and the comforting solidity of smooth, warm metal until Glitch's movements stuttered. Fluke glimpsed a flicker of movement ahead that sent a shiver down his spine. Glitch spoke very, very quietly.

"I suggest that we proceed to the surface with greater haste."

"Wasn't that the idea?" Fluke's legs felt like lead, and he was grateful when Glitch shifted the weight again to synchronize their steps.

"Fluke." He jolted at the sound of his name. "I detected no life forms in our immediate vicinity...and that was no droid." Fluke didn't particularly want to think about the implications of that, but it didn't change their mission. He and Glitch would press on.

When his eyelids began to droop or his feet dragged in the dirt, Glitch took to filling the silence with statistics - informing Fluke about the garrisons of droids that had been deployed from the factory before it had been destroyed. Fluke was ashamed of how long it took him to realise Glitch spoke only of losses. They, too, grieved.

"We are close," Glitch announced, as they hoisted him onto their back to climb upwards. Fluke closed his eyes and smiled as he rested his chin on Glitch's shoulder. He'd never been so happy to feel a breeze brush against his cheek.


End file.
